


Outbreak

by Hetsez



Series: Outbreak [1]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Infection, M/M, Operation Chimera, bottom Doc, infected Jäger, outbreak, rape I suppose, top Jäger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 14:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14137632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hetsez/pseuds/Hetsez
Summary: Jäger crashes with his helicopter as he's on his way to save Doc and his team. Thermite orders the team to find their pilot, but the progress is slow and the team is exhausted. They're too late. Jäger is infected, and the infection is hungry...





	Outbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, I really wanted to write an outbreak fic but I got stuck on it and basically I only just finished it, but I did want to upload it before Operation Chimera would end... 
> 
> So here I am, sitting at the airport and flying to the UK in an hour, uploading my fic xD I have to warn you, I did not read it over before uploading it, so I apologise for any mistakes. This fic has rape (I suppose) and is kind of dark maybe so be careful reading. If you're not okay with reading male rape, just read until the line (--) c: Also I apologise if this fic is not of the quality you're used to with me. As I said, I'm uploading in a rush, so if it's really bad I'll delete it I suppose~

"Thirty seconds out from the extraction point. I will – What? Mayday, mayday, mayday, I have been hit, losing al-" Jäger's voice sounded over the comms, alarmed and panicked before it was cut off.

"Jäger? Respond, damnit! Jäger!" Thermite responded over from the HQ in their make-shift camp in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. He wasn't exactly worried about Jäger's well-being alone, but also about the team's. Doc and his team of two recruits were currently holding up in a large mansion in New Mexico, after they had exploded the nursery of the infection in Sierra. Jäger was supposed to extract the team from the zone. They all held their breaths as they listened. _Not good._

But Jäger's comms stayed quiet. An eerie sort of quiet – too quiet, deadly quiet. Doc saw the two recruits exchange a fearful look. He knew he had to keep calm and keep assuming his role as squad leader. But it was a fact that he too feared for their lives now, and that of Jäger too. Their own lives because their only way out of this hell zone was gone now – the army and the other Rainbow ops were way too busy with missions of their own to come to their aid – and Jäger's life because he was a valuable member of SIX and Doc felt it was his duty to take care of his colleagues and prevent any nasty injuries or even deaths.

Thermite told the team to hold for a while as he spoke to his superiors about their situation. The two recruits sat down on the floor, restless and slightly frightened. Don't get them wrong, they are soldiers and they are trained to handle tense situations where terrorists have the upperhand. What they aren't used to, however, is their current situation. They were dealing with people, _civilians_ , infected by something that yet remained unknown to them. They had to kill these civilians, for if they didn't shoot them, the infected would strike first. They were attacked by beings that weren't human anymore and acted like beasts – clawing, punching and biting. It was a nightmare. And thus it made sense when the recruits slumped down the wall, their knees too weak to hold their weight at the moment. Their only ticket out of this hell had just crashed. There was no way out.

Doc tried to occupy himself with securing their temporary hideout. He checked if the doors were closed and locked tight and kept glancing out of the windows to see if the infected had noticed their presence yet. Luckily, that wasn't the case. However, once he had secured the room, all he could do was pace around the room and keeping his eyes and ears peeled for danger. Doc was worried. Of course he was worried; their situation was pretty hopeless.

"Is that Jäger guy even a pilot?" Doc heard one of the recruits mumble to the other. The Frenchman pretended he hadn't heard it.

"I heard he was a helicopter engineer?" The other one whispered in response.

Doc paid them no mind. All he was thinking of, was how to get out of there. He tried not to think of the fate of his German teammate. Jäger was a cheerful, yet timid fellow who always out his work down to help others in the workshop. He didn't deserve to go like this, if he had indeed had a fatal crash. His best friend Blitz would mourn for days.

Noise on the comms. Thermite had returned.  
"We've got a lock on Jäger's location, but the area is swarming with enemies. Get over there and extract him ASAP." It was obvious from his voice that the American was tired. Doc told him they would be on it, and he gathered his team. The recruits looked happy to be moving again.

They exited the house and reached a deserted street. Crashed cars, fog and some scattered grunts were all that occupied the streets. The lights of the shops were still on as their owners had left in a hurry – only to be turned into one of the infected a few seconds later. Doc saw an ice-cream shop, but he felt sick in his stomach. They would have to fight their way through swarms of enemies to save their German pilot. Doc could only hope Jäger was somewhere safe and hadn't been injured too much in his crash.

"Heads up, you've got hostiles incoming." Thermite's voice sounded over the comms once again. A second later there was a loud _bang_ and one of those... _things_ appeared from an adjacent house.

A smasher.

Doc felt all hope he had left seep out of his body. Those things were deadly. The recruits shouted and opened fire, but their bullets were easily deflected by the thick skin of this tank-like enemy. What's worse; it angered the monster. It cried out and came charging at the team at a fast pace. Doc yelled for his recruits to spread out and jump out of the way. The Frenchman had dealt with one of these things before. The trick was to hit it in its weak spot on its back. The smasher stormed on and crashed into a wall. The thing was blind. This was their opportunity to strike. Doc rushed over and stabbed it in the back as that was the only way to deal with the hideous thing. And thus the team worked together as best as they could and kited their enemy, luring it with gunshots and angering it only to jump out of the way and try reach its back.

Meanwhile, other enemies attacked. They seemed to be attracted by the noise of gunfire and attacked the team while their attention was on the smasher. It made their job harder, it was distracting, but they had to take them out in order to defeat the smasher. More than once they were knocked out of the way of the smasher by its sheer force. Helping each other up and sharing ammo – for their supply drained quickly to get the smasher's attention – the team worked desperately to kill all their enemies.

Half their ammo supply and a lot of scratches and bruises later, the smasher lay dead at their feet. They breathed heavily, their knees trembling from the stress and their bodies stiff from the tenseness of the last few minutes. Doc briefly examined the cuts and bruises they had obtained from the smasher as well as from the grunts and the breachers. None of them seemed to be in life-threatening danger, although one of the recruits had received a nasty cut above his eye that continuously bled. The blood got into his eye, blinding him for moments before he wiped it away.

"Hostiles down. Keep moving. Jäger's counting on you." Thermite's voice was heard over the comms.

Their situation didn't get much better as they progressed. They were attacked continuously. When they had taken out one enemy, another appeared directly to take its place. It was hopeless. And yet the team continued on, determined to find their wounded pilot. Doc guided his recruits as well as he could, but more than once they got separated. As a veteran, Doc was able to protect himself pretty well. But once the recruits got surrounded on their own, they were always saved by Doc and the other recruit just in time. The Frenchman was starting to worry about the time that he would come too late. Fighting these enemies was tiring and he found he got slower and slower. The small aches of his wounds exhausted him; his hand around the pistol grip of his gun and his index finger on the trigger started to feel cramped. When would this hell end?

"Is it really worth it to save this Jäger dude? I mean, I don't want to complain but our situation and condition isn't exactly positive." One of the recruits finally dared to voice his doubts when the team hunkered down for a moment to reload all their weapons.

"Look, we're saving Jäger whether you like it or not." Doc said, frustrated as he tended to a rather ugly-looking gash on the other recruit's leg. "I'm not leaving any men in this... shit hole."

The Americans laughed softly at Doc's French pronunciation of the word 'shit hole' and nodded. They were not to disobey their leader's order; and if Doc wished to risk everything to save their pilot, they had to help.

They continued, and saw the damage the infection had inflicted on this town: Streets broken up by some kind of mysterious earthquake, the strange black and red sculptures that the infection had created and made odd, splashy sounds, crashed and burning cars and houses. It felt like they were walking through a zombie movie, and that would have been a good joke if the team had been in a better condition. But the constant attacks of the infected left them weaker and weaker. During an attack by an apex, one of the recruits nearly lost his life. The thing was too powerful and it had taken them a large supply of their ammo to take it down. The team continued their way without talking after every battle that tired them more a d more: they spared their energy for what was about to come.

They were relieved when they heard Thermite say: "That's the last of them. The crash site is just up ahead." And so the team rushed on until they reached their objective.

It was a garage, obvious from the lighted sign on top of the building saying 'Auto King'. Broken through its roof was a helicopter, presumably the one Jäger had been flying to extract them. It was clearly not in an operational condition, which discouraged the team. They had hoped to find Jäger in the helicopter so they could make their way out of the god-forsaken place immediately. No luck there.

"That's the crash site. Jäger's inside. Secure him, and prep for evac." Thermite said over the comms as the team got closer.

Doc was anxious to see Jäger's condition. They had taken long, way too long to get to him. If the German hadn't been able to find himself a safe place, he could even be dead. But what was worse, if he had been exposed to the infection for too long without the proper gear, he could have turned into one of them. And that meant the team would have to deal with him as there was no cure yet. Doc shook the thought from his mind. Jäger would be okay. He had to be.

Again the team lost way too much time clearing their path towards the garage. Doc was getting more and more impatient, shouting orders at his exhausted recruits and his own aim becoming worse and worse. He had to get to Jäger as soon as possible, but all these enemies were preventing that. Desperately they fought their way through the hordes of infected while Doc heard a clock ticking in his head. _Too late, too late._ It repeated in his head over and over, driving him mad.

They got separated again. Doc didn't care. Far away, he could hear their shouts and cries, but his brains didn't register them. He didn't even hear Thermite shouting at him over the comms. He had to get to Jäger. The German was in danger, and it was his job to rescue him and tend to him. He could not fail him. And so Doc wasted all his ammo, all his energy until he was inside the garage.

Silence. 

Here there were no enemies, not even any sounds.

With hanging shoulders, his gun uselessly in his hand and panting hard, Doc's eyes tried to locate Jäger's body in the dimly-lit room. He saw the helicopter's front sticking through the ceiling and he looked at the floor underneath it. There was a pile of bricks that looked bloodied, but there was no body. No body that had left the blood stain behind. _Where was Jäger?_

Taking unsure steps, Doc walked into the garage. The turmoil outside sounded far away to him now, and the faith of the recruits seemed unimportant. He had to find Jäger. The friendly, cheerful man, Doc had to bring him back to the base. He couldn’t leave him behind. Doc only realised vaguely that he was leaving his recruits behind in the process, but he was unaware their remains were already feasted upon by the infected. Doc felt as if under a spell, but he blamed his fatigue for that. He had to continue.

Suddenly, the silence was broken. Doc heard a stifled groan in a dark corner of the garage followed by some laboured breathing. Cautiously, Doc walked over. Was Jäger still alive?

"Jäger?" Doc asked the seemingly empty room, his voice shaking a little from anticipation and exhaustion.

It took a while before the answer came. "Doc?" It was definitely Jäger's voice, but it sounded like he was in pain. Immediately Doc rushed towards the dark corner, where his eyes were now able to make out the figure of a man doubled over on his hands and knees.

"Jäger? Are you alright?" Doc asked as he fell to his knees next to Jäger's dark figure. His eyes, that had adapted to the dark better now, could see Jäger was in pain. He wanted to touch him, tend to him, but he seemed to hesitate. Why was he hesitating? He had to take care of Jäger, but somewhere in the back of his head, alarm bells were going off. _Something is wrong._

Jäger's whole body shook as he breathed. He groaned in pain. One of his hands was on the floor, his short nails scratching at the tiles. His other hand was wrapped around his abdomen and he looked like he was holding back a great pain. He started to groan louder, he trembled and he panted.

"Hey, turn around, let me look at you." Doc tried to soothe him, but his shaky voice couldn't mask his fear. Something was wrong with Jäger. Completely wrong. But his duty was to take care of those who were not well, and so Doc stayed by his side. Against his better judgment. His brains faintly told him to run, but the spell he was under seemed to want to keep him there. And so, Doc couldn't move.

Suddenly, Jäger stopped. Stopped his groans, his shaking, his laboured breaths.

"Jäger?" Doc said weakly.

Jäger turned around. The first thing Doc noticed, was his blood-shot eye. No, it wasn't blood-shot, it was red. The iris was red, the black pupil small. He could see Jäger's eye because the left side of his visor was broken; shattered to pieces in the crash. Even though the plastic pieces could explain why Jäger's eye was red, they couldn't explain why his _pupil_ was red. Doc moved back involuntarily upon seeing his colleague like this. The hand that had been clenched around Jäger's stomach now moved to his head. He seemed to want to hide his eye for Doc, but ended up looking through his fingers at the Frenchman when he stuttered: "D-Doc, it h-hurts."

His voice was lower and rougher than Doc could remember. Was this Jäger? Doc felt fear creeping up his spine, a chill that felt like death itself.

Crawling to face Doc, Jäger stumbled closer on his hands and knees. He seemed to be resting all of his weight on his right leg, while he merely dragged his left leg along. The reason for this was obvious: Jäger seemed to have been wounded in his crash; his blood-soaked trousers testified for that. He left a blood trail behind while he tried to get to Doc, which worried the medic. Jäger was losing a lot of blood. Still, Doc found himself backing off as Jäger reached out his gloved hand, clawing at Doc's arms. "H-Help me."

Doc swallowed down his fear – even though it stayed – and nodded. He had to help his teammate. Whatever was wrong with him, Doc had to help him. With shaking hands he got his first aid kit out of one of his pockets. He located his small torch, and clicked the light on. Reaching over to hold Jäger's chin with one hand, Doc shone the light into his revealed eye.

It was useless, really. The pupil was already constricted, which was not right. The room was dark; Jäger's pupil should have been dilated. Turning the light on and off did not change the shape of the pupil. Feverishly, Doc tried to think of the medical explanations for this not so uncommon symptom, but the staring red eye distracted him. "Doc, I..."

Jäger couldn't utter any other words as he suddenly doubled over in pain again. Both his arms were wrapped around his stomach now as he cried in pain. Rocking himself to and fro while he tried to deal with his suffering, Jäger's one revealed eye was tightly shut. He trembled, he groaned and he cried. Doc wanted to hold him, console him, extend a hand and place it on his shoulder, but he sat frozen in place, his fear for whatever was happening to the German keeping him pinned. It wouldn't have been a good idea to hold Jäger anyway, because suddenly Jäger's shape started to change. Long, spiky tendrils started to grow out of Jäger's small form, on his shoulders and over his back. They protruded from his body out of nowhere, ripping his uniform where they grew. Jäger cried out in agony, a sound Doc would never be able to get out of his system again if he were to make it out alive.

Watching in disgust and fear, Doc couldn't move and sat frozen in place. Jäger's whole body trembled and shook, he took pained breaths as he continued to scream in distress. Willing himself with his whole being to move, Doc tried to shuffle away from Jäger's changing form. This was _not_ the Jäger he knew, not the Jäger he had to save. In fact, there was no more Jäger to save; the German had already turned into one of the infected. However; Jäger seemed to fight it.

"Stay." Jäger suddenly said, reaching out a clawed hand to Doc. His voice sounded surprisingly strong; it was more of a beastly growl than a pained groan. "Don't leave me. Doc."

And immediately, Doc sat frozen again. Even though he wanted to run, he couldn't. Jäger seemed to have full control over him, possibly unconsciously. Crawling closer and still reaching out, Jäger closed the distance between himself and the medic. He still pleaded for Doc to help him; he cried and groaned, but there was nothing Doc could do for him. Jäger was infected.

The German seemed to come to the realisation that he was a lost cause. He sat still, claws on the floor and black and red tendrils glowing faintly in the dark. He looked at the floor and wept and wailed quietly. Doc felt sorry for him, but he couldn't do anything. He sat petrified.

Then, Jäger went quiet.

The last thing Doc saw before his world turned dark, was Jäger suddenly looking up at him and charging towards him with a great, inhuman speed and outstretched claws. This was the end...

\--

The first thing he saw, to his horror, was the garage. The garage in Sierra, where he had looked for and found an injured Jäger. An _infected_ Jäger. Terrified once again, his eyes searched the disformed figure of his colleague. When he couldn't locate him, Doc looked at his own situation: he was still exhausted, all his muscles ached and his throat was dry. But the worst thing was the fact that he was tied. Doc tried to move his arms and legs, but the strange formations caused by the infection kept him in place. There was even one of those tentacles around his middle, which made Doc suspicious whether these _things_ had just grown here coincidentally or if someone had willed them to grow there.

How long had it been? How long had he been trapped in here? Where were his recruits? Were they still alive? His head felt heavy, with worry, fatigue and pain, so Doc soon lost consciousness again.

He awoke again – he couldn't tell how much later – when he was offered water. Or actually – when it was simply poured into his half-open mouth and he had to lap at it like a dog to get some inside his mouth. The water was a bless, though, as it cleared his head a bit and helped his dry throat. When the water bottle was removed, Doc looked into the one red eye of Jäger again.

The German stood in front of him, looking like one of those things but not exactly the same – he seemed slightly more sane as he looked the medic up and down, holding the empty water bottle in his hand idly. He simply stood in front of his tied-down colleague as if he was a visitor in a zoo, admiring some kind of animal.

"Jäger?" Doc spoke uncertainly.

"Jäger?" The infected human repeated as if he tasted the name on his tongue. "Yes..." Jäger stared into the distance for a moment, as if he came to a sudden realisation or suddenly remembered something important.

"Are you okay?" Doc asked, taking in his disformed body. He looked exactly like a grunt, the ones they had been shooting before he found Jäger at this crash site. Only, Jäger still wore his combat clothes, which made it hard for Doc to determine in which state of infection he was. He still looked like the Jäger he knew, but the long, black and red tendrils sticking out of his body and that glowing red eye told him differently.

It took a while before the German came back to the here and now. When he did, he looked at Doc as if he was surprised to find him there – tied up and all – as if he had forgotten Doc had come to his rescue. _Too late._

Jäger cocked his head. "Doc, you are our medic, are you not? You studied medicine, did you not?"

Opening his mouth to answer, Doc found he couldn't make any sound. What an odd question to ask, of course Jäger knew these things? What did Jäger want?

Jäger waited for an answer shortly, but he smiled and nodded when Doc didn't answer him. "Ah, of course you are." Giving another nod as if to establish something for himself and get his thoughts in order, Jäger started pacing in front of Doc. "So..." Jäger spoke as he walked, "did you study any disorders?"

Doc was speechless once again when Jäger turned to look at him expectantly. When once again his captive didn't answer, Jäger continued pacing.

"What is it called when a person has various personalities, Doc? Can you tell me that?" Jäger's voice seemed on the edge of shouting. He was getting impatient with Doc not answering him. Crushing the empty water bottle, Jäger threw it against the wall next to Doc. It bounced off, the sound of it startling the medic as their surroundings had been fairly quiet up until now.

Shuffling nervously, Doc finally answered: "That would be... a dissociative identity disorder. But what are you on about Jäger? Come on, untie me and we'll get the hell out of here. You need to be treated; you have been exposed to the infection for far too long." He pleaded.

"Untie you? When you have been exposed to the infection for too long as well by now? Hah, what a joke." Jäger seemed to be amused, even though Doc couldn't see the rest of his face. Then suddenly, Jäger was in front of him, one of his claws around Doc's neck as he held his head up to force the medic to look into his eyes. Behind his visor, Doc could see his other eye glowing red as well. He couldn't struggle, he couldn't protest. He was at Jäger's mercy. "We're in this shit together now. You're not leaving me." Jäger growled angrily.

Doc tried to swallow, but he couldn't because of the constrictive force of Jäger's hand. Had he gone mad? They had to get out of there! Suddenly Jäger released his grip on Doc again and glared at the medic before he continued pacing.

"A... dissociative identity disorder, you said?" Jäger said thoughtfully, as if he hadn't just attacked his colleague. "So that is when there's another personality inside of you, is it? Although, it feels like there's another _person_ inside of me. A person that's enraged; it scratches and bites and tears at my insides, it's right beneath my skin. No, it's not a person. It's a _monster_. What's that called, Doc? Can you tell me?" Jäger mocked the medic.

"You're mad." Doc managed to bring out weakly. This was not the Jäger he knew. Not the friendly German. This man was madness itself. And he feared it. Doc pushed his back into the wall, trying to get away from whatever being was standing in front of him, wearing Jäger's skin and talking to him with the same voice of his teammate.

"Maybe I am." Jäger laughed. He watched Doc struggling desperately against his ties with an amused look about him. "Trying to get away from the monster, Doc? You can't get away, the monster hides under your bed, in your closet, _in your head_. Oh, the nightmare's only just begun." Once again Jäger took his time watching Doc panic, satisfied.

Doc pulled against the infection keeping him pinned to the wall, wanting nothing more than to break free and flee from this demon-Jäger. But the tendrils were too strong and he was too weak. He looked at his colleague in front of him, a teammate he had always trusted on the many missions they undertook together. But he wouldn't help him. No, he seemed to enjoy watching him struggle. Still, that made Jäger an interesting specimen. His body reacted to the infection like all the other unfortunate souls, but his mind was a different case. Where all other infected completely lost their minds upon becoming infected, Jäger seemed to be able to keep some form of sanity. _Dissociative identity disorder, he said...?_

"Jäger, how is it possible that you – you're still -"

"Sane?" Jäger filled in the gap, and the bemused look on his face seemed to falter. "Because I keep it caged, Doc. I keep it caged, but I can't control it. If I let it out, it'll tear me down." Now Jäger was the one who sounded fearful, almost desperate. "It's within me, Doc. In my soul, in my heart. I feel cold. I no longer feel like I own this body. There's something else- It is slowly eating me up. Its teeth are sharp and they hurt." The German seemed to shudder while he whispered at the Frenchman in front of him.

Doc had started to shudder as well, from sheer fear of this monster. "T-then let us get out of there? Find you an antidote?" He pleaded once again.

But Jäger shook his head. He stopped shuddering and looked Doc right in his face again, standing strong once again. "There's no antidote. No one can hear me scream from inside here, Doc. No one can save me." He shook his head again. "You can only end it. But I won't let you end it. You're joining me. Right here. You won't leave me alone."

"Jäger, no-"

"You're staying here!" Jäger shouted. He was furious, animal-like, and his chest heaved as he scowled at Doc. Everything turned quiet immediately – even the scuffling sounds of the infected outside stopped. Doc couldn't open his mouth nor utter any sounds. It seemed to him then that Jäger had some kind of strange control over the infection. "You'll be turning soon, too. And then, I'll be waiting. I'll be here. But you're not leaving me." The German pointed a finger at him accusingly.

The only thing that was still his, were his thoughts. And Doc thought. A lot. He thought Jäger had gone mad, was internally struggling with the infection and had some kind of control over it. It was eerie, it was terrifying, and Doc knew he had to get out of there somehow. There had to be a cure, and he would come back with it to help Jäger. But he could not fight against the infection restraining him. He was pinned down and left to Jäger's will.

Suddenly Jäger doubled over in front of him, and groaned in pain, frustration and anger. He breathed as if he was suffocating and desperately took his helmet and mask off in order to breathe. He held his head, his fingers tearing at his short dark-blonde hair. He trembled again as he if he was feverish and seemed to wait for the moment to pass while he groaned in agony.

"It's trying to take control-" Jäger growled, shaking his head as if to get rid of whatever monster was in his head. Then he abruptly stopped, opened his eyes and his glowing red irises looked upon Doc's trapped body. "It's hungry."

Doc shifted uncomfortably under his gaze as he thought he should not ask what Jäger ate nowadays.

"It doesn't eat, Doc." Jäger said, as if he could read the Frenchman's mind. "It takes. It takes whatever it wants. It's hungry in a different way. And I can't control that either. When it gets hungry, it takes over." Closing the distance between them with a few strides, Jäger was in front of Doc's face. His claw went to the medic's neck again, wrapping around it but this time not closing around it. His hand lingered there only for a while as it slid upwards, over the bottom half of Doc's face. "Seems you're in the wrong place, at the wrong time, _Doc_ …" Jäger's voice was no longer his own as he growled and tore Doc's balaclava down.

Doc inhaled sharply as the sudden cold air descended on his bare skin. Had it been so cold before? He shivered and found he couldn't think about anything apart from what his body felt: cold, tense and trapped. His dark-brown eyes locked with Jäger's red ones. That was when he was lost. In those eyes, he saw a world of pain and agony, a world different from the one he lived in. A world he was starting to get lost in. His breath hitched in his throat and he tried to force himself to look away, but the eyes had captured him. He was terrified.

Without a warning, Jäger crashed his lips onto Doc's. The kiss wasn't loving, it wasn't affectionate. It was demanding, it was starved. Neither closed their eyes. Doc was still trapped in the red gaze that kept him under control. The monster groaned as it kissed the medic violently, sucking, biting, _taking_. It literally knocked the air out of Doc, who started to run out of breath. The Frenchman gasped but he was not allowed to take even a second of respite. Jäger's mouth was on his for an eternity, ignoring Doc's basic needs as he forced his tongue inside the medic's mouth. Doc wasn't even able to fight it. He could do nothing except for standing there and letting the monster have its way. He was trapped and at its mercy.

One of its claws was still on Doc's throat, the other trailed its nails down his body, finding and locating. And locating it did. It found Doc's crotch. It squeezed and it groped, making Doc gasp for air desperately. He was able to catch his breath momentarily as Jäger's groping had him throwing his head back, breaking the kiss and giving Jäger full access to his vulnerable neck. The claw that was still on his throat tore the balaclava further down and immediately Jäger let his tongue feast over the exposed flesh.

Doc opened and closed his eyes several times as he made an attempt to control his breathing. His thoughts were running through his head like high-speed trains, fast and chaotic. Calm down and assess the situation: tied down at the heart of the infection, alone with an infected Jäger. There was no way out and he was the German's mercy, who had no control over the infection raging through his own body, but seemed to have the upperhand at times. That time was not now, though. Jäger was eating at his flesh without actually eating it – more like teasing and licking, like a predator would do to a prey it had just caught. Keep the prey frightened and make the thrill of the kill last a little longer. Jäger was groping him, unable to ignore the hunger of the infection, and Doc felt himself growing hard despite his fear.

Trying his best to fight back, Doc refused to look in Jäger's glowing red eyes again. He tried to back more into the wall, but there was only so little space for him to move about. He did not want to give in to the monster, he feared it, but at the same time he felt something awakening within him as Jäger attacked his jaw line with his teeth and moved his groping claw to Doc's backside. The first harsh squeeze of Jäger's hand had Doc groaning deep down his throat, fear mixing with arousal and the awakening of the infection within him. It called for its mate.

But still Doc tried to ignore Jäger's hungry mouth, his grabbing hands. He closed his eyes but all he saw were those red eyes staring at him, and he was captivated once again. His hands, tied down by the infection's tendrils, clenched and unclenched. He wasn't sure if they wanted to hit Jäger, pleasure his own growing erection or touch Jäger in the same way as he was touching him. He balled his fists, digging his nails into his palms. Do. Not. Give. In.

"Look at me." Jäger growled, and despite his struggling against the monster, Doc looked immediately. The red eyes shone brighter than they had done before, but the black pupils were still small dots in those big irises. Even though Jäger was hungry – as he called it – his pupils did not dilate. Still, he seemed slightly out of breath. "I see the infection in your eyes. It’s awakening. There's no escaping now." Jäger smirked. "Do you feel it?" He whispered lowly.

Against his will, Doc nodded. It made Jäger's smirk grow even wider.

"I'll be right here when it's your turn." Jäger said. "Right here." Doc's brains only half registered that Jäger pressed his fingers between his cheeks when he said it. Standing helplessly, Doc could only watch as Jäger started to open his trousers. He took his time, scanning Doc's face with those eyes of his, amused at every emotion he saw washing over the medic's face. Fear, shock, disgust, interest, anticipation. He let Doc's trousers drop to his ankles, immediately grabbing at the manhood hidden by dark blue boxers. "My infection is calling yours. It knows its mate." Jäger continued to whisper. "Give in."

Doc's brains were too far gone to ask how two males could be mates. The guy in front of him, his usually bright, cheerful colleague who he had never thought even had any sexual needs, was not talking to him. He was talking to a presence Doc had started to feel inside him. It was far away and small, but it was there. And it was interested in the infected in front of him.

"Now, turn around." Jäger barked. Doc looked confused; how was he supposed to turn around if he was pinned down against the wall? Never once did he think turning around was a bad idea in the first place. "Turn around!" Jäger ordered once again, angry, and Doc obeyed immediately. He found that the restraints had relaxed in the slightest in order for him to move around. Jäger groaned in approval. He put his hands on Doc's body and made him bend over before the tendrils were back to keep him in place.

Before Doc even knew what was happening, he felt his boxers being removed. They were pulled down and joined the trousers at his ankles. His eyes opened wide when he heard Jäger unzipping his own trousers. While his sane self was trying to make him see he was about to get raped, the infection within him made him feel like this was natural. It made him calm down when he heard the monster behind him spitting on his fingers and it made him relax his body when those fingers were inserted into his hole.

Jäger groaned impatiently as he fingered a whimpering Doc. His sane self willed him to take it slow: Doc was not an enemy. Where he had taken others by brute force whenever his infection got hungry, he consciously prepared Doc for its mercilessness. But it was stronger. Stronger than him. Jäger was starting to lose control. At some times he wasn’t sure if he watched Doc’s uncovered backside with his own eyes or with the monster's. He wanted to take him, feed the infection. Keep it satisfied, for if he didn’t, it would break him down. But at the same time he tried to fight it, feeling a sort of affectionate feeling to the infection within Doc's body. Doc would turn soon, too.

Doc was tossed forwards and backwards between his emotions: fear for the infection behind him as well as within him, and his desire that Jäger stimulated. Jäger’s fingers moved hard and rough, but they hit all the right spots that left Doc a whimpering, groaning mess. He had not done this before, but a voice in his head told him to relax. _Trust the master._

The fingers were removed. Doc trembled. He was starting to feel feverish; hot and cold at the same time and his head swimming. His eyes hurt, his muscles and bones hurt, his whole being hurt. He was starting to hear things, voices in his head. He was starting to feel things, a fire in his stomach. It moved and it wriggle, the voices shouting and sneering at him. He didn’t understand them. He was going mad.

Something else was inserted. Something larger than the fingers that had been in there before, and it had Doc groaning out loud. He felt heat behind him and it became hotter the further the thing was sliding inside him. When he felt flesh against his cheeks, he realised what had happened. The infection was going to take. And it called him. No, not him. It called the fire in his stomach. And it responded.

It wasn’t his own voice that groaned and screamed as the monster behind him took him forcefully. First, a pain rushed through his body, but as Jäger pounded remorselessly, all he could do was get used to it and adjust. Doc’s sight was blurred and the blood pulsed through his veins. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He felt wild, he felt alive. The monster was feeding on him, and in turn it called the monster within Doc. The fire was burning his insides by now and Doc could feel the presence taking over.

“Yes...” The monster behind Doc groaned, enjoying as he gave in. It moved rough, with strong and fast thrusts. A hungry animal. “Accept it, take it.”

Even though Doc didn’t quite know whether he had to take Jäger's dick or take on the infection, he didn't know. But accept he did. And with it came a great pain, driving him insane. He groaned in agony and in pleasure, screaming incoherently and unintelligibly. He felt his own monster moving within him, roaring, scratching, wanting to break free.

Not only his ass hurt now. His back and shoulders started to hurt. Jäger suddenly kept making sounds of approval, urging Doc on to continue letting it in. Doc could do nothing but obey, tied down and in the monster’s grasp as he was.

If Doc knew what it felt like, he would start to think he was growing bones. And in fact, he was, in a way. The same spiky tendrils Jäger had, were starting to grow out of his body. The monster behind him satisfied his hunger in time to move out of the way when they protruded through his clothes. Groaning at the sudden loss of the feeling of being filled and at the agonising pain, Doc pushed into the restraints as the infection took over fully. It felt like he was embracing death itself. It called him, it wanted him, and it felt cold, so cold. All that kept him from losing his sanity completely, was Jäger’s soothing, bewitching voice. Doc shivered and trembled, wept and shouted, but Jäger supported him.

When the pain was over, Doc found the restraints were gone and he turned around, shaking. He found Jäger looking at him, a smirk on his face as if to say ‘welcome to hell'.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration:  
> [Skillet - Monster](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mjlM_RnsVE)  
> [This amazing art piece by Plastic-bridge](https://twitter.com/plasticbridge20/status/971953345370845184?s=09) <3


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